2012-09-02 Now That's a Name
(Insert Log Text Here)Afternoon in New York City. A prime piece of real estate is the mansion that serves as the headquarters to the mighty Avengers. It's an impressive sight, even without thinking about those who frequent its halls. Sitting on the edge of a rooftop a block over is one feline heroine, looking at the mansion thoughtfully. She absently taps a business card against a furry thigh as she lets her thoughts meander where they will. Folded up on the roof next to her is an overcoat, with a broad-brimmed fedora set atop it. Next to this is a carry out bag and soda cup, the former of which Tigra now reaches for, tucking the card away safely. Thor is on his way to visit friends. It's his way. The Thunderer has a small scatchel slung over a shoulder; it looks like a small leather backpack, a dot of brown against the flowing crimson material of his cape. Stormy-blue eyes spot the furry one on the roof top up ahead. Thor slows his flight and Mjolnir is lowered to his side. "Hail, furred one," calls out the Storm Lord, letting the swirling winds that has carried him quickly unravel about him, leaving him drifting toward Tigra at a pace similar to a man's normal walking. About him is the scent of ozone, the promise of rain. Thor's voice is deep, rumbling, and gentle; a rolling distance thunder. Each word has the formal lilt of whatever is Tigra's native tongue, be that English, Spanish, German, Swahili.... The bag rustles as Tigra pulls out her lunch, in this case a hot dog snagged from a push cart down below. She's first aware of Thor's approach when the winds threaten to below the bag, and her potato chips within, off the roof, but with, ahem, catlike reflexes, her hand flashes out and snags it before it can get away. And then she realizes that someone actually spoke to her. Up here. On the rooftop. She looks up, and then quickly stands when she sees who it is, nostrils flaring as she drinks in those intense scents. "Uhm, no, don't think so. Weatherman didn't say anything about hail today," she quips, in American accented English, tail flicking about as her mind races. "Uhm, wait, no. I mean, hello yourself." The last of the storm winds that carried him fade away, leaving little more than the normal breezes this day would bring. Thor lowers himself to the rooftop, clipping his weapon to his belt, unable to hid the grin. "I dare say that I give the Men of Weather a diffficult task. Regardless, greetings to thee. I am Thor Odinson, called Donar the Mighty. I am the Child of Jord, the Son of Frigga, Lord of Thrudheim, and Prince of Asgard. Though to mortals I am simply, Thor the Lord of Storms, Bringer of Lightning, God of Thunder, and Protector of Midgard," he introduces himself, holding out his now free right hand to the felinoid woman. Aware that she's still holding a burger and takeout bag, Tigra shifts both to her left hand and reaches out to take the offered hand. Her grip is friendly and firm, the fur warm. "Greetings yourself," she says, words a bit less firm than her grip. "I'm Tigra, called, well, Tigra. Which is enough of a name for now, I suppose. I hope I wasn't causing a problem here," she says uncertainly. Handshake given and recieved, Thor steps back and lets his right hand fall to his side. His smile is warm and welcoming. "Well met, Tigra. I must say that no, I doth not think thou art causing trouble just yet. I paused for thou art an odd sight to mine eyes, sitting here upon this roof," Thor explains without judgement in his voice. "Says the really big guy who walked out of the air," Tigra points out. "But I guess there's more big guys flying around than there are furry people sitting around, huh?" she suggests. "Like I said, Tigra. I'm one of the good guys. Trying to be, at least. Was in a ruckus in the park a few days ago, and this SHIELD agent gave me a card, told me the Avengers might like to talk to me." Four in two days. The Avengers are quite the popular army. Thor grins at that. "Aye. If thou did assist in protecting Midgard, I imagine that we would indeed wish to speak with thee," Thor comments warmly. Of the 'correction' Thor says silent, though the smile remains warm. He knows he's an odd sight to mortals, and he did say that Tigra was odd to /his/ eyes. "If I may know the name of the Agent with whom thou did speak? I shall listen to thine stories, that I may know the calibur of thy heart," adds the prince. "Midgard...oh, the mortal plane, right?" Tigra asks. She shifts her stance absently, tail slowing down some, but still moving fairly briskly. "I didn't actually get her name, but I've heard of her, if she's who I think she is. The Black Widow?" she asks. "Red head, looks like she absolutely knows what she's doing. There was another SHIELD agent there, named Ramsey. He stayed and waited for the police with me while she left for SHIELD stuff." "Aye. Midgard. The Mortal Realm. Earth," Thor acknowledges with a nod of his head both the realm's name and the SHIELD Agents. "Aye, aye. I do know them both and am honored to fight at their side. And how was it, Tigra, that thou did come to fight along side them?" Realizing, again, that she's still holding a burger and bag while talking to Thor the Lord of Storms, Bringer of Lightning, God of Thunder, and Protector of Midgard, Tigra wraps the burger back up and puts it in the bag, tossing it gently next to her coat and fedora. "Well, I was looking for trouble. Not with SHIELD, just trolling for creeps in the park. I can turn mostly human, see," she says in explanation. "And I was jogging in the park like that, after dark, seeing if anyone would try to mug me or something. Couple guys did, and that's when I shifted back to this," she says, gesturing at her fuzzy self. "Wasn't much of a fight, really. One passed out, other ran, pretty much right into the Black Widow, and she cuffed him." "I see," is all Thor says in reply to the bait and switch tactic Tigra describes. He's used it a few times. We don't talk about that much, though. Rather, his attention seems drawn to the fact that the furry had food and has now put it away. "If I have interrupted thy meal, I beg of thee forgiveness, and do ask of thee: Please, eat." Thor is frowning lightly at himself. Tigra looks a little uncertain again at his response, wondering if he disapproves of her actions for some reason. "Hm? Oh, no. I'm good, really," she says. "It'll keep." Talking to Thor the Lord of Storms, Bringer of Lightning, God of Thunder, and Protector of Midgard ranks higher than her hot dog. Not a hamburger, a hot dog. Ignore any previous references to hamburger. Nothing to see here. Move along. "I just thought this would be a good place to sit and think things over. I explained to the agents what it was that I did, and that's when she gave me the card, said to be in touch." Thor seems slightly uncertain, but nods anyway, willing to take Tigra's words and assurances for what they are. The soft smile tip-toes back into place. "As thou wills, Tigra. I have not heard thy tale, and very much wish to. My visit to mine friends in yonder dwelling can wait, if thou wishes to regale me with thine adventures? THough, I must ask of the significance of 'the card'?" Thor steps forward now, motioning Tigra to move with him and retake her seat upon the rooftop. He'll join her. Good thing he packed a bottle of wine in his satchel and has a goblet and mug clipped to the left side of his belt. The golden goblet gleams once in the sunlight as he motions with his left hand and the cape shifts to reveal it. Since Thor's moving towards the edge of the rooftop, Tigra gives a slight shrug, and a smile, and sits down again, leaning over to snag her lunch, fishing the hot dog out once more. "I'm not sure my adventures are really all that much regale worthy," she says. "Not to someone like you, anyway. Though you did say I was an unusual sight?" she asks. "I half expected you to have seen all sorts of cat people in your time." "Thou wouldst not know unless thou did tell thy tale, true," Thor prompts, smiling as he gives a little hop that sends him above the rooftop ledge. His natural gift of flight and not the flight granted him by his hammer is what settles him to the ledge with graceful ease. His scarlet cape flutters behind him as he settles. "Nay, Tigra. Cat people are not among the common denizens of the Nine Realms, at least, that I have thus far encountered in mine own adventures. Elves, trolls, orcs, giants, dragons, imps, and all manner of foul beasts; certainly. Fair feline maidens?" Thor shakes his head to wordless finish the thought. This, while he sweeps the leather satchel from his left shoulder, bringing it to his lap. Tigra sits on the edge of a rooftop, where Thor is joining her. She crosses her legs with at her ankles and takes a bite of her hot dog as she listens to Thor, tip of her tail idly tapping against the rooftop. "Kind of surprises me, somehow," she says after finishig her mouthful. "I mean, they're all over the place in fiction. Some more than others," she asides. "Guess maybe I thought it was a reflection of something else. That's okay, I'm not gonna complain." She glances at his satchel absently, then digs the potato chips out of her bag. "Want some?" she offers. As the satchel is opened it reveals those wine bottles. Had I said he packed one? Silly me! Thor likes wine. He packes two bottles! He pulls one out, then sets the rest of the satchel, with its now solitary wine bottle and high tech but sturdy Stark Issue Touch Pad, on the ground between himself and Tigra. "Perhaps. I admit that I spent not time with all those that dwelt in the other realms. I would not be surprised to learn that Alfheim or Svartalfheim were home to creatures such as thyself. Upon my next visit home, I shall endevor to check, that I may return to thy side with thine answer," Thor says smoothly, blue-gray eyes regarding the offered crisp. His blonde head tilts, birdlike, with curiosity. He reaches out with a hand to take it between forefinger and thumb. He inspects the item a moment before putting it in his mouth and -crunch crunch crunch- Thor grins. She and Thor were supposed to meet at the Manor and when he didn't show right away, she figured Midgard had called. Yet again. It's as she exhales and lifts her eyes to the heavens that she spots the tell-tale red cape. Ice blue eyes narrow before she releases another sigh, crosses her arms over her chest, and in the blink of an eye is gone from street level and standing directly in front of Thor and Tigra, a brow arched questioningly. "Having fun?" Sif's eyes land on the bottle of wine pulled out. "Thinking of drinking the gifts we brought, my Lord?" A golden apple it isn't, but the chip at least has ridges. "Oh, it's not important," Tigra's quick to reassure Thor, not wanting anyone to go traipsing through other realms on her behalf. "I just curious. Call it a cat thing, if you want," she jokes. And then there's another flying person. Right in front of them. Tigra actually handles this appearance a bit better than when Thor appeared out of nowhere. "Uhm, fun? We're just talking," she says, feeling like she's inching her way out onto thin ice. "Hi. I'm Tigra." BUSTED! Thor lifts his gaze to Sif, a bit of a roguish grin on his face. His left hand unclips the golden goblet from his belt, offering it to Sif. "Want some," he asks of the goddess standing upon the roof before them, his own feet resting on the gravel of the rooftop. Er... He shouldn't drink gifts before they are given, should he, and it would be annoying for Sif to have to teleport back to the apartment just to replenish the gift, and yet, Thor offers away because yes, yes he was thinking of drinking the bottle. Especially when he was given the potato chip. Busted indeed! Sif's eyes stay on Thor a moment and her hand is held out. "Bottle." No, they are not drinking it because no, she is not teleporting back for more. "You drink it, you explain it." She keeps her hand held out as she turns her attention on Tigra. Her eyes roam over the feline, her other brow shooting up before she finally introduces herself. "I am Lady Sif, Goddess of War, Lady of Blades, Shield Maiden to Asgard, Former Valkyrie and Brunhilde's second, Sword Maiden to the Prince of Asgard." Yep. She went through the entire list. Or almost all of them anyhow. At least it was just a normal chip, and not salt and vinegar. Tigra's sitting cross-legged, a mostly finished hot dog in her hand, and she doesn't need her empathy powers to see tere's a leetle bit of tension here. At Sif's introduction, Tigra stands up gracefully and offers her hand. "Just Tigra," she says, repeating her name, half apologizing for a lack of other titles. Though maybe should start listing her bachelor's degree or something. Tigra, Esquire? Nah. With an almost over dramatic sigh, Thor hands over the bottle. And even so, Thor's not able to keep from grinning. "Tigra is considering joining the Avengers. I stopped to introduce myself and hear her takes that I may be better able to give opinion of her inclusion, should I be asked. The same with Wiccan, Axion, and Bunker. Has thou met Bunker yet," Thor informs and asks of Sif, feathers not ruffled in the slightest by Sif's seemily bursque tone. He's known her too long to be upset by it. His other hand reclips Sif's goblet to his belt. Instead of taking the hand, Sif bows at the waist. "Tigra." The bottle is taken from Thor, the roof crossed so she can pick up the satchel with the other bottle and replace the one she took before she slips the strap over her shoulder. At the mention of others joining the Avengers, a brow shoots up once again. "Oh really? Well, I suppose that explains why I was kept waiting." She looks over at Tigra again before looking back at Thor. Yeah, she's a little brisque today but... it's been a bad couple of weeks. At least she's returned to warrior mode instead of letting the depression continue to consume her. Besides, it's not like she Instead of taking the hand, Sif bows at the waist. "Tigra." The bottle is taken from Thor, the roof crossed so she can pick up the satchel with the other bottle and replace the one she took before she slips the strap over her shoulder. At the mention of others joining the Avengers, a brow shoots up once again. "Oh really? Well, I suppose that explains why I was kept waiting." She looks over at Tigra again before looking back at Thor. Yeah, she's a little brisque today but... it's been a bad couple of weeks. At least she's returned to warrior mode instead of letting the depression continue to consume her. Besides, it's not like she's angry. Just irritated. Wow. Tigra didn't know she was going to part of a large incoming class. Maybe it's good that way. More people new to the team means they can get used to things as a group, perhaps. At the bow, Tigra lowers her hand and returns the gesture, gracefully if clearly unpracticed. As Sif steps over to the satchel, Tigra pops the rest of her hot dog in her mouth, chewing quickly. "I, uhm, probably should be going," she says. "I don't want to keep people waiting any longer than I already have," she half apologizes. "My apologies, beloved," Thor offers to Sif as she collects the satchel from him. That he stopped to talk for so long and hasn't had sadness darken his eyes for a solid hour now, so that's a good thing, right? But Sif's irritation has him averting his gaze and getting to his feet. "Aye, Tigra. Well met. Until our paths once more cross," Thor comments, stepping toward Sif. Category:Logs Category:RPLogs